Post navigation

>Halfway: Reflections on Zach’s First Six Months

>Yesterday, our little Zachy turned 6 months old and I was unable to blog about it because my home computer is acting so bizarre that within 5 minutes of turning it on, I am so exasperated that I could scream.

We are halfway to Zach’s first birthday. I must have blinked.

I could bore you with all of the milestones reached, but do you really care? Instead I will just say that my youngest son is growing in leaps and bounds. I’m sitting here right now replaying his first six months like a montage in my head. My miracle child. Because not only did I survive the pregnancy, but he did as well. And if I haven’t said it before, I will say it now: every single contraction, needle stick, hospitalization was such a small price to pay to be given the gift that is my Zachary. It still amazes me how he fit into our lives so seamlessly. When we are high-strung and nervous, he is content and relaxed. When we are down, he giggles and smiles at precisely the correct moment. When I was overwhelming myself with career and education and goals, he came along to put things into proper perspective for me.

After six months, SIDS becomes much less of a risk. I can now admit that the fear that something would happen to him all but paralyzed me over the past six months. He is just too perfect for this world, and on more than one occasion, I have held him in my arms as the tears flowed because I was just so convinced that he was too good to be true, and surely something was going to happen. I feel like I can breathe now while I revel in the gift I have been given.

I look into his wide baby blues and my sense of wonder at the world around me is renewed. Once again I can appreciate the vivid colors around me, the sights, the smells, the new experiences. And for the third time in my life, I get to know love that is so deep it is almost soul-crushing. As he moves into this next stage of development, I get to show him more of the world. I get to be the one to tell him what snow is or how to rip open the wrapping on his Christmas presents, what a peach tastes like, and more. I cannot wait for any of it. This is parenthood at its finest. We, as parents, get the heartbreak and the tears of child-rearing as payment for the joys we receive when we get to teach our children about the world around them. I firmly believe this.

I am writing this from work right now while my family is at home, sleeping away the night. And in the morning, I will go home to them. To John’s Sunday pancake breakfast, complete with Evan’s sticky maple-scented kisses and Zach’s coos and smiles he reserves only for me–his mommy. And for what has to be the thousandth time in one single morning, I will marvel at how I came to be so blessed. And I credit Zach for the reminder to take it all in, for showing me the gifts that were there all along.